The Visitor (31 page)

Fairfax Hall

Dear Cassie,
Henry’s letter began. It had taken until the next day for her to open it.

I am a very observant man, if not a vocal one. I had only one evening in the company of Mr Tate, but one evening was enough. He loves you, Cassie. He thinks you’re wonderful.

I know all about fears. They’re not logical, and because we have a God who is in control, they are sin. I’m not saying this to be harsh. I have no wish to scold you. But I would urge you to think wisely on this subject and listen to those around you.

Cassandra had to stop reading. If she listened to those around her, she would never have left Collingbourne. But then she would be forced to face Alexander Tate.

Folding the letter without looking at another word, Cassandra slipped it into the pages of her Bible. She had only just stopped crying. If she finished the letter, she would most certainly be in tears again, and right now she wasn’t willing to risk it.

Newcomb Park

Tate arrived midmorning. He asked to see Cassandra Steele, not noticing the servant’s moment of hesitation. The young gentleman was shown to the small parlor, where he stayed on his feet, eagar for his first glimpse of Cassandra. When the door opened just minutes later, the woman who entered was not a redhead.

“Hello, Mr Tate. It’s nice to see you.”

“You must be Miss Elizabeth.”

The two bowed formally to each other before Tate smiled.

“Do you know whether Cassandra got my note? Has she forgiven me for not coming sooner?” he asked, not waiting for an answer. “The doctor wanted me to rest at home another week, but I was only willing to do that for two more days. I didn’t try to explain all of that in the letter, but I hope Cassandra understood.”

“She’s not here, Mr Tate,” Lizzy answered with regret. “And she never received your note. She left before it arrived.”

To Lizzy’s amazement, Tate smiled.

“She’s run, hasn’t she?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

Tate laughed. He was finding that regaining one’s sight had an amazing effect on one’s outlook.

“My aunt commented on your dark hair and beauty the first time she met you,” Tate now explained. “I had met your blonde sister, Charlotte, in London and thought her beautiful. When Aunt Harriet told me that Cassandra had red hair and freckles, it wasn’t hard to imagine her not feeling as though she measured up.

“But it was more than that,” Tate went on, Lizzy listening in surprise. “I could hear the hesitancy in her voice. One day we spoke of honesty, and I could tell she was trying to be herself with me but wasn’t quite able to manage the job. I know now that she was upset about how I would view her.”

“And how will you view her?”

“I’ll view her for exactly what she is: the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

Lizzy’s tears would not be stopped. Even with this near stranger in her midst, she began to cry and could not stop.

Henry happened by, heard his sister’s cries, and went in. Not bothering with formalities, Henry nodded to Tate and went to his sister.

“It’s all right, Lizzy. Don’t cry anymore.”

“He loves Cassie,” she managed.

“Of course he does. Did you ever doubt?”

It had all been too much. For a time Lizzy was inconsolable. Only when she began to calm a bit did Tate try to speak.

“It’s most rude of me to stay on when you are so upset, but if I leave, I don’t know when I’ll learn where Cassandra has gone. I have to go after her, you see.”

Both Henry and Lizzy looked at him.

“I suppose you’ve been sworn to secrecy,” he guessed.

“We have not,” they said in unison, and both laughed, laughs of relief and genuine pleasure. Lizzy took a moment to mop her face, and Henry spoke.

“She’s in Bath, at Charlotte’s. I can give you the exact directions.”

“I would be only too happy to have them.”

“She’s so certain…” Lizzy, now able to speak, began. “I don’t know if you’ll convince her as easily as you have me.”

Tate nodded.

“I think she’ll believe me. I have something I’ve never had before.”

Lizzy’s heart sank over her disregard of his situation. But all she could think about was Cassandra.

“How awful of me not to say anything, Mr Tate. I’m so pleased you’ve regained your vision. I remembered you in my prayers daily.”

“Thank you. Now, at the risk of being rude, I must head home and pack. I have a trip to make.”

Lizzy went to him.

“Please tell her how much we want her to come home.”

“I shall do that.” Tate smiled down at her and was smiled at in return. “As soon as you’re my sister-in-law, Miss Elizabeth, I shall give you a hug.”

Tate went with Henry for directions to Fairfax Hall. The men shook hands, and Henry repeated Lizzy’s request. As soon as Tate was able, he was on his way.

“Will you walk with me in the garden?” Morland asked Lizzy when supper was over.

“Yes.”

It was a quiet couple who made their way outside, the sun setting fast. Lizzy wondered what Morland was thinking, and Morland wanted to hold Lizzy’s hand.

“That was a fine meal,” Morland said instead, keeping his hands at his sides.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Did you know that pork is one of my favorites?”

“Is it?” Lizzy asked, but Morland only smiled. There was no artifice in this woman.

“Yes, it is, and I know you don’t care for apples and that you prefer chicken to beef or pork.”

“How did you know that?”

“One pays attention over time.”

“Not if one isn’t interested.”

“Who said I wasn’t interested?”

“You did.”

“When did I say this?”

“You didn’t have to say it, Morland. I just knew.”

Morland stopped their slow progress over the grounds with a hand to her arm. He didn’t keep touching her but waited until she faced him to speak.

“What should I have done, Lizzy?”

“It’s not your fault, Morland. I’m sorry I made it sound that way.” Lizzy met his eyes. “I take it you came back because Edward told you of my feelings?”

“He read a letter to me. I must confess, until that moment, I had no clue.”

Lizzy turned away in shame. “He wasn’t supposed to do that.”

“No?”

“No!” she said firmly now. “No woman wants to know that a man has come to her in this way.”

“You’re not so different from Cassie, are you?”

Lizzy looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you haven’t run away, but you’re no easier to convince.”

Lizzy bit her lip.

“Don’t you get it, Lizzy? You had no idea that Edward spoke with me about your letter. He could have shown it to me; I would have asked if you knew he planned to say something; he would have said no; and I would have gone on with my trip.”

“But instead you came home.”

Morland gave a short laugh. “I began making plans on the spot. Believing we had a chance, I couldn’t get here fast enough.”

“What are you saying, Morland?”

Morland shook his head, his hands going out in frustration. This only lasted a moment, however. Seconds later he pulled Lizzy close.

“I’m saying,” he began, “that I love you. I’ve loved you for a very long time.”

Lizzy sighed as Morland held her.

“I thought I would die when you went away. I tried not to love you, but it never worked.”

“I had no idea, or I should never have left.”

Morland kissed her now, ever so gently, before moving back a little and reaching for her hand. He linked her smaller fingers in his own and continued their walk. He had been enjoying the flowers and the sunset, but now he saw none of it. Turning to look at each other constantly, the two talked and walked for the next two hours. Not until Henry came looking for them did they go back inside where the three of them continued to talk until well after midnight.

When Lizzy finally climbed the stairs for bed, she realized she hadn’t thought of Cassandra in hours. Praying that her sister would listen to Tate and be wise in the Lord, Lizzy fell into a dreamless sleep, never once forgetting that Thomas Morland loved her.

Fairfax Hall

Charlotte heard someone at the door. She was on her way to check on lunch preparation, but she stopped and waited as Ward answered the wide portal at the front of their home.

A tall, dark-haired man was given entrance. Ward saw the mistress of the house standing by and went on his way.

“You must be Mrs Barrington,” Tate said with a bow. “I’m sorry to intrude on your home, but I’m hoping to speak with Miss Cassandra Steele.”

“Cassandra is here. May I tell her who’s calling?”

Tate smiled in a way that both of Cassandra’s sisters found utterly charming.

“Please just tell her she has a visitor.”

Charlotte went on her way, tracking Cassandra down in the garden room at the rear of the house where she was working on an arrangement of flowers.

“Cassie, someone is here to see you.”

“Oh,” she looked up, her face pleased, thinking Morland might have returned. “Who is it?”

“A visitor.”

Cassandra needed no time in understanding. Her eyes grew large, and panic filled her face.

“Send him away.”

“I can’t do that, Cassie. Won’t you just see him?”

“No!” She began to wave her hands, her eyes casting about. “I see I need more flowers. No visitors today, Charlotte. I’m simply too busy.”

With those words, she went out the nearby door and into the garden. Charlotte stood still, wondering where that “grown-up” sister had gone. Seeing no help for it, she turned back to the foyer.

Tate took one look at Mrs Barrington’s face and smiled again.

“Did she run?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“How far did she go this time?”

“Just to the garden.”

“Do you mind?”

Charlotte now smiled. “Not at all. I’ll show you the way.”